


The Snow Swept You In

by carpemermaid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, Bathtubs, Blow Jobs, Escort Draco Malfoy, Escort Service, Face-Fucking, Foot Massage, Grumpy Harry Potter, HP: EWE, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Prostitution, Rentboy Draco Malfoy, Rentboys, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 13:25:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9273746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpemermaid/pseuds/carpemermaid
Summary: Someone orders Draco Malfoy, escort, for Harry Potter. Harry’s less than keen to have his privacy encroached on, and Draco is determined to show him a good time. He prides himself on being a professional — Potter will not make him lose his head.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2016 HP Mini Fest for [Prompt #5 (2015)](http://mini-fest.livejournal.com/135962.html?thread=2706458#t2706458). Thank you to _Melodic_ and hijikata2000 for the beta!
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Snowflakes were falling in thick clumps, clinging to branches — and Draco’s eyelashes — as dusk faded into darkness. He brushed the snow away as he stepped up to the undecorated door of a modest cottage. He rapped his knuckles against the door, arranging his face into something alluring that his clients usually preferred to see. He felt his expression freeze on his face when the door opened to reveal a scruffy looking Harry Potter, with his wild hair a mess and the beginnings of what was sure to be an impressive beard. Draco’s eyes drifted down, taking in Potter’s worn-looking jumper. His first instinct was to turn on his heel and run. The thought became a heavy presence in his head while they both just stared at each other in confusion.

_Run, just leave, RUN!_

Draco’s hand twitched towards his coat pocket, where he kept his appointment card that would show whether or not he was at the right address. It had never been wrong before.

“Malfoy? What the hell are you doing here?” Potter asked finally, breaking the silence. His thick brows were furrowed in irritation. He looked Draco up and down, eyeing Draco’s expensive coat. He narrowed his eyes. “How did you even find where I live? I don’t give out my address.”

“I was _ordered_ for the evening to provide my company and entertainment,” Draco explained primly. He didn’t need Potter’s self-righteous judgment over his job, especially if Potter was his client. At his response, Potter’s eyebrows rose so high up on his forehead that they almost disappeared under Potter’s mop of hair. He snorted and made to slam the door in Draco’s face, muttering _fuck this_ in disbelief.

On impulse, Draco barred the door with his arm, and shoved his boot into the open space before Potter managed to shut the door. He decided right then and there that he was committed, because he was a professional. He was going to show Potter a good time.

Potter grumbled as he tried forcing the door to close on him, but Draco was able to push inside uninvited.

“I didn’t invite you to come in, you wanker!” Potter pointed out loudly as Draco looked around the cramped hallway. _Leave it to Potter to be rich and famous, and still end up deciding to live in a hovel_ , he thought unkindly as he squinted at a colourful child’s drawing hanging on the wall. “Why aren’t you leaving?” Potter asked in complaint.

“Because my services are already paid for, so you’re stuck with me, it would seem,” Draco explained absently. He made a show of carefully taking off his expensive dragonhide gloves as he searched for a house-elf or a coat rack. “Where can I put my things?”

“You can shove them up your arse,” Potter snapped grouchily as he shoved by him. _What a ghastly temper_ , Draco thought, rolling his eyes at Potter’s retreating form.

Draco followed Potter into the sitting room. There was a fire crackling in the fireplace, casting a warm glow on the room. It was…quaint and cosy, Draco decided after a moment. It certainly was not to his taste, but he could see how it suited Potter, who apparently still wore threadbare jumpers that were fraying at the elbows. Draco tilted his head to study Potter as he flopped gracelessly onto a lumpy looking armchair. Potter lazily summoned over a bottle of Firewhisky, and poured himself a glass.

“I’m going to sit here and drink the night away. You can do whatever the fuck you want, for all I care. You can tell whoever _bought_ you for the night that I wasn’t interested,” Potter said, snorting at his own words. He tossed back half of his glass. Draco watched Potter’s throat work as he swallowed. “And you can tell them that I’m seriously questioning our friendship after they gave out my address to a rentboy — like I’d want that sort of thing,” Potter added with a frown. Draco wanted to laugh, but he wasn’t sure he could make it come out any way other than self-depreciating. He had already made his peace with his work.

“You make what I do sound so crass,” Draco complained. He ambled over and perched on the arm of Potter’s chair. Potter grimaced, leaning away from Draco. “More often than not, my clients are just looking for someone to share their time with. It doesn’t have to be anything like the lewdness I’m sure you’re picturing in your mind. Not if that’s not the kind of company you’re seeking. I’m an _escort_ , Potter, not some back alley, two Knut whore, thanks very much,” he explained. Potter rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed, and muttered _whatever_ sullenly.

Draco arranged himself more comfortably, practically situating himself in Potter’s lap with the way his legs were draped over him. He looped one arm around Potter’s neck, and plucked Potter’s glass from his hand with a cheeky wink before taking a sip. Potter might look frumpy, he observed as he leaned close, but he certainly smelled nice. Draco lingered for a moment before straightening on his perch.

“Now, how would you like to spend the evening?” Draco asked.

“I just want to be left alone. I’m not _seeking company_ ,” Potter grumbled. “Can’t you go sit somewhere else?”

“Why don’t I improve your mood?” Draco asked in his most sultry tone. He bit down on a grin before sliding gracefully to the floor, kneeling between Potter’s legs. Potter stared down at him with a bewildered expression that made Draco feel a thrill of power shoot through him.

“I—I thought you said it wasn’t always about sex,” Potter stammered. Draco watched his throat work as he swallowed thickly. _Ah, now we’re getting somewhere, Potter_ , Draco thought.

“Who said anything about sex?” Draco asked. He smirked up at Potter as he picked up a sock-clad foot. He started to massage it, kneading Potter’s foot through the thick wool. Potter made a surprised sound, tensing before slowly uncoiling his muscles and relaxing for Draco. He smiled encouragingly up at Potter with a nod. “That’s it, just relax. Let me help.”

He massaged until Potter was practically melting into the armchair. Draco stripped off the fluffy socks when he gauged that Potter wouldn’t snap out of his relaxed state like a spooked colt. He worked his fingers, circling them and pressing them into the muscles until he felt them loosen. He gave Potter his best massage, even working his tense calves. His fingers explored under his trouser leg, caressing Potter’s warm skin. He smiled at every faint sound Potter let slip past his plump lips. Draco rubbed Potter’s feet until he was syrupy and groaning lowly in pleasure.

“God,” Potter whispered on a pleased sigh, melting further into the chair. Draco grinned up at him.

“’God’ certainly rolls off of your tongue nicer than Malfoy does,” Draco said. Potter blinked down at him, looking dazed — like he’d forgotten who was kneeling before him, rubbing his feet. Draco raised an eyebrow at him as he finished with a final squeeze to Potter’s arches. He felt an urge to laugh in delight at Potter’s put out look.

Draco rested his hands on Potter’s knees, letting his thumbs trace circles softly. He stared at him silently, mentally judging how Potter would react to his next question. “Shall I suck you off as well while I’m down here?”

Potter’s eyes went from drooping sleepily to wide and alert in the span of the hitched breath he took. His brows drew together. Potter opened and closed his mouth without answering. Draco saw him struggling with his morals, but his eyes gave him away. Potter wanted what Draco had to offer.

“Only if you give back your money. I don’t want to pay for it,” Potter said resolutely.

Draco frowned. He was not hard up for it; he was well kept. Yet, what Potter wanted led to murky waters where the client wanted something more. Draco’s rule was to never get involved or attached with his clients. Now he had his own mental dilemma, because it was _Potter_ — he was helpless to resist.

“Fine,” he said. They were both silent for a few moments, perhaps both surprised that the he agreed. Draco summoned the appointment card, and with a complicated wand pattern it glowed for a moment before fading to a solid black color, signifying the return of funds.

“Well?” Potter asked, arching his brow as his lips curled into a seductive and expectant grin. He seemed to have lost all of his earlier reluctance as he spread his legs wider, and slouched further down in his chair. He was nearly putting himself on display for Draco — it made his mouth go dry with desire. “I’m waiting, Malfoy.”

Potter kept Draco pinned with a half-lidded stare, nursing his Firewhisky and lifting his hips in invitation. Draco placed his hands on Potter’s knees again, pushing them further apart just because he had the power to do so. He smirked when Potter complied obediently. He glanced up at him through his lashes.

“How do you like it?” Draco asked. He slid his palms up Potter’s thighs and traced the outer edges of Potter’s groin.

“Sloppy,” Potter replied in a deep timbre that made Draco shiver. He cupped Potter through his trousers and gave him a squeeze. Potter made a pleased sound, shifting his hips to get closer to Draco.

“Sloppy, is it? So you like it when it’s messy?” Draco asked in a slow, sultry drawl. Potter’s eyes closed as he bit his lip. Draco felt his cock filling under his hand as he rubbed Potter to readiness.

“Mm, yeah,” Potter said. His eyes were more heated and full of desire when he opened them again. Draco peered up at him coyly through his lashes as he popped the button open on Potter’s trousers. He tapped his fingers against Potter’s hips to get him to lift up. He shimmied to help Draco drag his trousers down his legs to pool at his feet. The hard ridge of Potter’s cock jutted from its confines in his briefs. He held his gaze as he teased his finger along the waistband before freeing Potter’s cock.

“I’m going to suck your cock, Potter,” Draco said huskily, stroking his prick. Draco took great pleasure in watching Potter shudder with anticipation as he leaned closer, flicking his tongue out to taste the crown.

“Yes,” Potter breathed. Draco licked the head again with a broad stroke of his tongue, before swallowing Potter’s cock whole. He worked his tongue as he sucked, bobbing his head slowly up and down Potter’s shaft. “Shit, yes,” Potter grunted. His hips twitched under Draco’s hands. Draco heard the clink of the glass as Potter set it aside before threading both of his hands into Draco’s hair. He didn’t pull him down, or grip his hair roughly — he simply held Draco’s head while he sucked Potter’s cock.

Draco hummed as he swallowed Potter down to the base, his nose twitching at the tickle from the coarse dark curls there. He heard a soft _thump_ as Potter flung his head against the back of the armchair. Draco slurped sloppily, letting his saliva leak out of the corners of his mouth as he worked his thick cock.

“Oh fuck, yes! I love those sounds you’re making,” Potter babbled. His fingers squeezed Draco’s hair for a moment, twitching in an aborted motion. Draco pulled off slowly with a hard suck that had Potter groaning.

“Potter,” he said in a raspy tone. “You don’t need to be gentle with me. Use me.”

Before Potter could answer Draco dove back in, curling his tongue around his prick as he sucked him down. Potter made a wrecked sound that was music to Draco’s ears. He gripped Draco’s hair tighter and gave an experimental shallow thrust of his hips. Draco nodded, humming his approval as he bobbed his head. Potter groaned again and started a slow rhythm of thrusting his cock into Draco’s mouth, pulling his head down on it in time with his thrusts. Draco relaxed his jaw, focusing more on breathing and sucking Potter with sloppy enthusiasm. Potter’s fingers tightened in his hair to the point of a pleasant burn in his scalp as he thrust deeper.

“Oh fuck, so good!” Potter moaned. Draco hummed in agreement as he felt the head of Potter’s cock nudging into his throat. “Shit! Malfoy, I’m not going to last much longer!”

Draco moved one hand to massage Potter’s balls, caressing them and squeezing them as he sucked harder on the shaft. He could feel his own hard cock demanding attention, trapped in the confines of his fine trousers. His knees burned against the hardwood floor. Potter was babbling above him — Draco couldn’t even catch everything he was saying. _Who knew Potter would be so talkative_ , he thought as Potter praised him over and over again. Draco slurped noisily as Potter thrust deeper into his mouth. His hips were nearly pistoning in and out as he drew closer to his release.

“God, yes, yes! Malfoy, fuck!” Potter cried. He tightened his hold on Draco’s hair before releasing it, cupping the back of his head with his large hands. Draco moaned around his mouthful of thick cock. “Oh! Shit, Malfoy, I’m coming — I’m coming!”

Draco’s throat worked as he swallowed around Potter’s cock. He felt his balls tightening as Potter fell over the edge into the blissful waves of his orgasm with a broken groan. Draco circled his fingers around the base of Potter’s prick and stroked him through his release, milking every last drop of come onto his tongue. He hummed as he swallowed it all, still stroking his cock until he was too sensitive.

“Ah—ah,” Potter said, panting. He carefully pulled Draco’s hand away. Draco let his softening cock fall from his lips and peered up at Potter, catching his breath. He was sure he looked a state. His lips felt swollen and sticky with saliva, and his hair felt like it was wildly mussed. Potter looked completely sated and shattered as he flopped back against the chair. Draco’s cock throbbed at the sight of him. “Wow,” Potter said, tucking himself back into his pants and kicking his trousers away.

“Mm, so did that improve your mood?” Draco asked, swiping at his lip with his thumb. Potter raised a hand slowly and reached out, running his fingers along Draco’s lips.

“Yeah, a bit,” Potter said with a chuckle. He smiled down at Draco, holding out a hand to help him up. Draco stood slowly, shaking the tingles out of his legs. Potter pulled him into his lap, his hand teasingly ghosting around his erection. His bare legs felt warm under Draco. It felt far too intimate to be doing with a client, even if Potter wasn’t technically one anymore. “Do you want something to eat or drink? Or, er, can I help you take care of this?” Potter asked, brushing his fingers over the ridge of Draco’s hard cock.

“That would be suitable. In a little bit, though,” he said. He glanced out the window, and noticed that the snowfall hadn’t let up. It was now piling high on Potter’s empty window boxes. “Quite the storm out there. I think I might be snowed in with you,” Draco said in amusement.

“Snowed in? Couldn’t you just use the Floo?” Potter asked.

“Of course not, your chimney’s full of snow,” Draco said imperiously, fully aware that the roaring fire would melt anything that came in through the chimney. He tilted his chin up. “Show me to your bathroom, I’d like you to draw me a bath.”

“I thought _you_ were here to entertain _me_?” Potter asked with a laugh. He made no move to get up, wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist and pulling him closer.

“Not anymore, I gave the money back,” Draco reminded him.

“Right,” Potter said with a soppy grin that he didn’t want to analyze too closely.

“Well? Come on, Potter, the bath won’t draw itself,” Draco said.

He stood and tugged Potter up from the armchair. Potter threaded their fingers together and led him to the bathroom, filling the clawfoot tub with an easy flick of his wand. He pulled a fluffy looking towel from a linen cabinet, and turned to leave.

“No, where are you going? I want you to get in here with me,” he said as he stripped and stepped into the warm water. Potter paused in the doorway for a moment, watching Draco, before coming to join him in the bath with a ridiculous grin.


End file.
